


Night at the Mercury

by Fianna9, gatekat



Series: ProwlxJazz Anniversary 2020 [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A PWP with a hint of plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake Prostitute, Hunter!Prowl, Multi, Prostitution, ProwlxJazz Anniversary 2020, Slavery, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Undercover, prostitution is legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26531947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fianna9/pseuds/Fianna9, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: Prompts: Fake Prostitute.  Hunter!Prowl's doing an undercover assignment that an up and coming musician is rather fascinated to watch.
Relationships: None
Series: ProwlxJazz Anniversary 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919776
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35
Collections: ProwlxJazz Anniversary 2020





	Night at the Mercury

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prowlxjazz 12th Anniversary 2020 Celebration  
> <https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org/1761396.html>

Visiting the Mercury in the Bhoja Heights district of Polyhex wasn't a decaornly occurrence for Jazz between gigs and a highly variable income but he did enjoy indulging when he could. He liked the look more than anything with brushed steel as nearly every surface; the half-powered lights made the place feel like it was glowing but didn't require shifting his visor to low-light settings. He loved the artwork as well. In panels--and even some free-floating areas--ferrofluid was held in every shifting magnetic fields so it flowed in an almost-random pattern; he could nurse a drink and watch for joors if the other bar-goers weren't overly interesting that orn.

He simply loved to mecha watch and this place had some of the best, and hottest, watching to be found within his price range outside the true interface clubs. It wasn't common anywhere else to have buymecha and pleasurebots employed by a bar to 'face customers out in the open so the owner and everyone could watch. Any level of privacy cost extra here rather than being part of the fee. Between that, the dancing and the quality cocktails, again at a good price, he'd live here if he could.

As he leaned against the bar with a well-designated Gleeful Debauchery in hand enjoying the optic candy out on display a small ripple of unusual movement by the entrance and a staff member slinking into the boss' raised booth focused Jazz's attention on the pair entering. The one in the lead was a striking silver and gold Polyhexian femme whose mirror-finish black visor had a crimson stripe along the center and an aura of 'screw with me and die' written all over her frame language. He'd seen her before, though not her current pet. Planum was well known for having the higher end and exotic buymecha and always willing to sell their time.

The more striking member of the pair to Jazz was a black and white Praxian on an actual metal chain attached to a spiky collar around his neck. He looked to be decorated as a high-ranking street cop from Praxus, or at least to give that impression. The white top edges of the sensory panels had a few piercings with a string of decorative chain running between them that Jazz was just itching to play with so he could watch the charge dance around them.

In the timing of the pair walking across the floor he could feel the beat of a song developing and he wished he'd ordered their top tier Harmonexian Hum to give some voice to it. The movement of the sensory panels would make a good chime from a cymbal, tambourine or some kind of bell. Perhaps the Praxian's voice would make a good harmony, or maybe a melody depending on how vocal he was when lost in pleasure and on the edge of an overload.

He wasn't the only one watching as they walked up to the bar. As soon as she paused the Praxian knelt at her pedes and just behind her with supple grace.

"A Sapphire Phoenix," Planum ordered while she petted her pet's chevron absently.

Out of the corner of his optic Jazz tore some attention away from the intriguing pet--and calculating how much he'd cost--to watch one of the most expensive drinks on the menu being made. At first the mix from three separate bottles and two powders, all from reserves he rarely saw used, was thick, dirty blue and decidedly unappetizing. When the bartender lit the vapors on fire with a flourish it began to change. Instead of the fireball many seemed to be expecting the mixture began to glow brightly, as smoke sparkling rose and particulates settled into a special indent at the bottom of the flowing, organic avian shaped stemmed glass that was specific to the Phoenix line of drinks.

Watching those drinks being crafted was an artistic show all its own. Jazz had written a small tune once comparing the creation of a Phoenix drink to a bonding negotiation and ceremony. It was still popular with a certain eccentric crowd who'd taken to using the Topaz Phoenix preparation in their actual ceremony.

The bartender handed the glowing sapphire drink over and Planum took a sip before humming her approval and pinging him a good tip.

"Up, pet. Show your goods," she instructed the mech at her pedes who stood smoothly and leapt onto the counter by bracing one hand on it as the fulcrum of the movement. She slid onto a stool on the far side from Jazz as the Praxian relaxed with his knees spread and opened both covers. His valve was already glistening and the platelets swollen to expose a still tight opening while he let his fingers play with his spike housing to tease it out.

Jazz wanted to get closer and run his fingers over those platelets repeatedly so he could hear how her pet responded. Would he be silent or keen in pleasure as a spike thrust into that tight valve? A quick check of his available credits to compared to Planum's normal rates meant he'd be running a bit tight for a while, but Jazz had enough in reserve that it wouldn't break him to put the slave through his paces and hear just how prettily he could sing. Finishing his drink quickly Jazz headed across toward the pair hoping to get there first before someone else decided to use that tight valve.

The Praxian watched Jazz from the moment his frame language shifted to the decisive look of one who's made a choice. He purred and jingled the chains on his sensory panels as Jazz and Planum tapped credit sticks to exchange the fee.

"Enjoy," Planum smiled with a pleased purr and watched with approval when her pet leaned back slightly and edged his hips up to the edge of the bar to be taken right there.

Jazz took a moment of his bought time to fulfill that earlier fantasy by running his fingers around the edges of the exposed valve. The slickness under his fingers and the frame arched for him to use were enough visual stimulation for his spike cover to snap open without a command. He'd paid for the privilege of using that valve and the spike if he desired, and he was going to joy every klik of that time. Right now he was turned on enough that he didn't noticed the rapt attention he was the focus of.

Under Jazz's fingers the valve rings constricted, eager to be stretched. The Praxian's field was just as intoxicating in its thick desire. Stepping up a bit closer Jazz lined up and pressed his hips against the exposed valve while both hands grabbed the bar on either side of the Praxian's hips. The platelets against the tip of his spike were more than enough stimulant to extend his spike directly into the waiting valve and the Praxian moaned.

Unable to really move the Praxian focused on rippling his valve and encouraging his owner's client to find pleasurable relief inside him.

The ripples were doing a decent job matching Jazz's thrusts even as he altered his rhythm just to see what the changes would do to the frame he was driving into right now. He was determined that the first overload of the night would involve just that tight valve around his spike. Maybe the second would be drawn out by playing with the Praxian's spike until it cause enough spasms in the valve to overload Jazz's still hard spike within it? It would be a delicious way to find out if that could even work.

Between his thoughts, the Praxian's efforts and his own efforts Jazz was on the brink far sooner than he wanted to be. At least this way he might be able to get three overloads in during his time. The idea was enough to tip his charge high enough to send an overload shooting through his systems. He managed to keep up some erratic thrusting through it and relished the encouraging sounds the Praxian made. Though he didn't feel it happen as Jazz became reantiquated with his frame he realized he was being held upright by arms wrapped around him and hands just above his aft holding him against the Praxian and that valve was still working him.

Reaching down between them to wrap a hand around the Praxian's spike and the Praxian gasped softly with a squeeze around Jazz's spike and flare of pleasure across their fields. Jazz started stroking it, trying to match the rhythm of the valve's pulses. "I wanna hear you, beautiful."

There was no hesitation in complying and soon the Praxian's hips were rolling into the duel stimulation as he panted between moans. Despite his riding charge the Praxian never wavered in his attention to Jazz's spike or in offering the moaned and gasps that had been requested.

It was close enough to his spontaneous fantasy that he couldn't help joining in the moans as the renewed charge continued to climb. There was a thrill of power drawing these sounds out even if part of his processor reminded him that the Praxian would silence himself at another command. Even so the sound, teek and crackle all back up the hard to fake blue lightning that zapped from wire to wire under thin white plating until the Praxian was shaking.

"Let me feel you gorgeous," Jazz moaned holding his own charge at bay. He really wanted to feel the Praxian's response to him; to pretend for a moment that this was something the slave was enjoying as much as he was.

The Praxian didn't even wait for the complete command. The moment it registered that he was allowed to overload he did with a sharp keen. His frame bowed as much as it could as his charge exploded across his armor, even jumping far enough to zap a couple of those closest to them. Jazz heard some surprised cries from those individuals as their own frames reacted to the charge and the scene. Jazz's own frame overloaded as the Praxian's charge cascaded through his systems sending the built up charge past containable levels.

This time when Jazz came to his senses he was slumped forward against the still-booting Praxian. Lifting himself up and stretching his back he checked his chronometer. His paid time with the Praxian was almost up; he had a couple kliks to enjoy the afterglow before he'd be back to watching instead of being the show. Taking a cloth out of his subspace he started wiping the transfluid off his hand and frame. "What's your designation, beautiful? I wanna know who to ask for again."

"Roadranger." The Praxian responded immediately.

The next customer only waited until Planum nodded to them. By then the Praxian had recovered enough to follow directions to get down and suck the femme's spike as she leaned back against the bar.

It was hot and Jazz briefly regretted not thinking to pay for that kind of attention. Still he knew he'd gotten a point or two in Roadranger's good list by stimulating him and letting the Praxian overload during their second round. Jazz liked his partner to have a good time even when he was paying for their company. Unlike the femme who wasn't even bothering to touch the frame pleasuring her spike. She had perfect access to those sensory panels and wasn't even playing with the chains. Maybe he could afford another round later and spend it fragging the mech against the wall with his hands all over those sensory panels?

He checked his balance and sighed as she overloaded onto the Praxian's face. Not tonight, but he had the mech's designation and Planum was easy to track down. After his next good gig he'd make a point to save for a couple more breems at least.

Three customers later Jazz was still racking up things to do the next time he got his hands on Roadranger when a comm to his owner sent the Praxian, panels still open and mixed fluids oozing down his legs, to the raised booth to dance attendance to the club's owner. Jazz shifted and moved to another favorite spot to get a better angle on that booth and the show the debauched Praxian was about to put on for the club. This little section of wall was often unoccupied by the patrons because it just so happened to be near to one of the bouncer stations. He'd checked it after his first time visiting; anywhere the bouncers were stationed had to have a good vantage point for some spot in the room and this one was for protecting the boss and whatever VIM's were there that night. Which meant it also got all the best optic candy.

Tonight it was just the club's owner and three pretty attendants meant to be optic candy more than useful.

Jazz watched greedily as Roadranger laid down on a table and pulled his legs up to his chestplates almost planting his knees into his shoulders. An almost pure white femme with a flashy mirrored-finish got up from beside her boss and strutted over to the table positioning herself at the exposed valve. Just from her frame language Jazz knew this was going to be a rough pounding and she did not disappoint her boss. Jazz was willing to bet she had a low-level inhibitor installed. He couldn't imagine holding out through two of Roadranger's overloads before spilling inside him.

When the Praxian stopped twitching uncontrollably a second assistant was by his helm and was thrusting into his mouth and down his intake in time with the one between his legs going for her second overload.

Jazz wasn't certain which of the femmes he wanted to be at this moment. He already knew now tight Roadranger's valve was around a spike, but now he was curious about how that mouth would feel around his spike. Jazz hadn't even had a chance to try that spike in his valve. He knew its feel in his hand but not in his valve or intake. Maybe that would be the thing he'd try first next time.

After all three overloaded the boss turned to look directly at Jazz and motioned him to come up.

"I liked your show. I want to watch the rest," he motioned to the Praxian sprawled out on the table. "Enjoy him for as long as you want and it arouses me. The toybox is under the table."

Jazz had seen a few other patrons brought up like this to entertain the boss so he had an idea what was expected of him. After kneeling down over Roadranger's face so the slave could start licking his panels, Jazz twisted around as fetchingly as he could while reaching down to explore the toybox and find out what was inside. He left the binding keys he found in the box. Watching someone fumble around for hidden bindings wouldn't be too arousing for the boss to watch, but the vibrating false spike Jazz found in the box did have possibilities. He knew that Roadranger's valve was thoroughly ravaged and slick with fluids. As Roadranger licked and mouthed Jazz's panel Jazz arched around bringing his head down as close as he could to Roadranger's panels. Reaching over his head while balanced on his knees Jazz carefully but fluidly aimed so that he could slide the false spike straight into Roadranger's valve.

On reflex the Praxian rolled his hips up to make it easier and squeezed around the length he honestly couldn't distinguish from a real one anymore. He was too slick and too stretched and far too focused on the valve cover above him.

Jazz snapped his valve cover open and started working the false spike in the slick valve. He couldn't quite coordinate aggressive thrusts with his current angle, but Jazz could use the vibration function to stimulate various nodes as he pressed the false spike into different sections of the valve.

This was the kind of act most pleasurebots practiced before showing a patron, and Jazz knew he was showing his inexperience with some of his motions. It was still an extreme position that should score some approval with their audience especially since everyone present knew by now Roadranger was on his first visit to the club. The rumble he felt more than heard from the big boss mech confirmed the risk was worth it. Much to his surprise by the fourth thrust the Praxian had moved his hands up and under the cover of stroking and teasing him were actually giving him significant support.

It was enough support that Jazz took the chance and threw himself a bit more off balance by arching just a bit further bringing his head lower. There was no way to pull off his next move without shifting one hand off the false spike and wrapping it around Roadranger's spike. He only needed the hand there long enough to get the tip of Roadranger's spike into his open mouth. Once it was in place he brought the hand back down to the false spike. During the entire process the Praxian offered carefully concealed support enough that Jazz could have relaxed fully and not fallen. Jazz really wasn't certain how long he was going to last given how much this was igniting his charge. Roadranger's determined effort on his valve platelets and outer nodes wasn't helping either. The rush of surprise-pleasure that slammed into Jazz's field from below only heightened it more from the genuine feeling of a mutual interface.

Jazz could hear fans and rumbles from the three attendants as well as the boss. A brief thought about calling one of the attendant femmes over to join their show by spiking Roadranger sent charges skittering across his frame. He pinged a general comm at low power, something that wouldn't reach much beyond the booth but anyone in range could pick up.

::Can I have mirror femme to spike him until we all overload?::

She moved at a small motion of her boss and stopped Jazz from removing the false spike. Roadranger's entire frame jerked with the surge of his charge when she sank into him, stretching his valve as wide as a big convoy would.

Jazz wasn't going to try to move the false spike in coordination with her; he knew that was beyond his capabilities on this attempt of this interface position. Not having anything else to do with his hands Jazz rested his hands on her hips as she started thrusting into Roadranger. He tried to make it look and feel more like him playing with her hips, but he was a bit distracted from playing as Roadranger's spike slid further into his mouth. Jazz slid his glossa along the tip of the spike as he opened his intake to take the transfluid he knew was soon coming. He really hoped he could keep his coordination enough not to get it in the face or bite down.

It wasn't much longer before his valve and the glossa thrusting and lapping in it became the center of his awareness. Not only was Roadranger's glossa really good at finding and playing with Jazz's nodes, but the Praxian's lips were also stimulating his valve platelets in a way that would have lead to his knees collapsing if Roadranger wasn't helping hold him up. Jazz knew the trembles and spasms shooting through his frame were moving his mouth and glossa on the spike. Hopefully his own movements felt as good for Roadranger as the Praxian's ministrations were feeling to the Polyhexian.

The advantage of the femme's finish was that Jazz just had to look at her to see the spike and false spike in the Roadranger's valve and even the way that stretched valve ring worked to pull them in. Each move she made created a squishing sound as lubricant was forced about. Each thrust sent vibrations and shocks of pleasure through the Praxian and into Jazz. The visuals, the sensations...it was all too much for Jazz. Sparks shot through his frame as he overloaded hard almost falling straight into a reboot. Hopefully Roadranger would be able to hold him up or wouldn't mind him collapsing onto of him.

The femme didn't last any longer and came hard, driving into Roadranger and bracing against his hips to keep herself upright until she could control her frame again. As Jazz started to feel his frame again a thick zap of charge shot into his valve lining and platelets, then into his mouth as Roadranger overloaded hard into him on both ends. The stimulus knocked Jazz back into another overload which slowly tapered down as his frame recovered from the extra energy. Sliding Roadranger's spike out of his mouth he planted his hands before flipping himself to the left off Roadranger's body and managing to stand next to the table opposite the boss.

"You have a good sense of show," the boss rumbled, his spike out and being lightly played with by an assistant as he leaned back. "You may have him longer."

Jazz looked at Roadranger for a moment before selecting another idea from his previous fantasies. "You're going to ride my spike facing him while I play with your sensory panels."

Roadranger forced himself to his pedes, interfacing fluid flowing down his frame and out of it and waited for Jazz to settle on the table with his legs facing the boss. Without hesitation he climbed on top of Jazz and sank down onto the half-hard spike. The valve was so slick with fluids that Jazz could barely feel any resistance as his spike was engulfed. Looking at the sensory panels displayed in front of him Jazz reached up and began lightly plucking the chains watching to see how the sensory panels fluttered in response. Jazz started plucking a tune on the chains as Roadranger moved on his spike.

It wasn't long before Roadranger had squeezed enough lubricant from his valve so that they could really feel the slide of Jazz's spike and Roadranger leaned back slightly to put his sensory panels better into Jazz's hands and show off the spike action better.

Now that he was actually feeling the slide of Roadranger's valve and the nodes rubbing against his spike Jazz decided to up the ante a bit and activated the magnets in his hands at their lowest setting. Normally those were used for special tricks during a performance; now they were pulling the chains in different directions and worked the wiring and sensors within the panels themselves. Roadranger shuddered and whined as his frame arched up to press into the contact with a riot of pleasure flaring across his field.

Jazz bumped the magnets up a bit in power and kept up the effort to drive Roadranger completely crazy. He'd had fantasies about playing with sensory panels ever since the first time he'd seen a Praxian frame, and Roadranger was making it clear that Jazz had a special gift many with that frame would enjoy. Jazz impulsively put his left hand in the center of the Praxian's sensory panels and began increasing the pulses as he stroked along the hinges. He felt the crackle of Roadranger's charge from his fingertips to his spike at every point of contact. Already the Praxian was shaking faintly and occasionally losing coordination in his valve. Under all the pleasure was a tiny bit of fear in his field.

Jazz didn't think Roadranger was afraid of him; he was just a client looking for a mutual good time. It might be because there was a chance Roadranger would overloaded before Jazz did. There was a possibility that might get the slave in trouble which was something Jazz didn't want to have happen especially after he'd had so much fun tonight.

There was one more trick he could pull that should get them both off quickly. Leaving his left hand on the sensory panels Jazz moved his right hand around to where his spike entered Roadranger's valve. Activating the magnets Jazz stimulated both spike and valve causing an overload to flash through his systems. The instant that first burst of transfluid hit Roadranger's inner nodes the Praxian howled and arched beautifully above Jazz, giving him an exquisite view of how the blue charge danced across the white doorwings and silvery chain. It was all he hoped for and more.

He was _so_ going to buy more of this mech's time. Maybe even buy him outright when his gigs got better. He'd need to save his shanix and find more gigs, but it would be worth it to have this beauty to interface and snuggle with in his berth. A few fantasies about making a life with Roadranger flickered through his processor as Jazz lay sprawled on the table. He could barely move and was completely spent. He could teek just how exhausted the mech above him was, yet Roadranger managed to hold himself up on locked arms stretched back.

"Exquisite," the boss rumbled before whispering something to an assistant. "Suck me off, pet," he ordered out loud again.

Jazz had no idea how Roadranger managed to move. He couldn't yet. Though he had to admit that it was worth the effort to loll his head to watch the Praxian kneel between the boss's spread legs to lap at the exposed and dripping valve.

The boss wasn't nearly as good at putting on a show as his attendants were, but Jazz didn't think anyone would dare to tell him otherwise. He was rough with the slave, gripping Roadranger's chevron roughly as he moved the Praxian's head from his valve to his spike and back almost randomly according to his whims.

The boss didn't take long before he stroked his spike and pushed Roadranger back to take the spray in the face. Instead of doing what everyone--including Jazz--expected the Praxian coiled and launched himself upwards. In a flurry of motion Jazz couldn't really follow he thought he saw a blade come out, knew he saw claws and energon spraying and the Praxian landed behind the boss to twist his helm off before making a leap to climb the wall to a second story window and was gone before even the bouncers recovered from the shock.

Jazz's mouth fell open even as he scrambled off the table and huddled against the wall hoping not to get offlined in the coming fracas. The mirrored attendant had practically dove off the side screaming about how she was unarmed and had nothing to do with this. The other two were standing frozen as they stared at their offlined boss. The bouncers recovered first, but there was no helping the boss. Instead one barked an order to lock the club down and call the cops.

As he stared at the graying corpse Jazz couldn't help thinking that--even with all the fantasies and crazy things that had happened tonight--at no point had Jazz expected to end tonight facing interrogation by the Polyhexian Coppers.

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't figure it out, Roadranger is Prowl's cover for the mission.
> 
>  **Mercury** is from [100 Space Bars](https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/277480/100-Space-Bars) by [Azukail Games](https://www.drivethrurpg.com/browse/pub/6582/Azukail-Games)  
> Brushed steel from the toes on up, this club would blind most people if the lights were ever truly turned all the way up. Liquid metals run through the clear walls, and niches hold ferrofluid art that moves through ever changing magnetic fields that makes it look almost alive. The whole place feels like it's in constant motion, and when you add in the beat of the music, it feels like being inside some colossal, awakened engine.
> 
>  **Gleeful Debauchery** : [[100 Mixed Space Bar Drinks](https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/299947/100-Mixed-Space-Bar-Drinks)] blissfully intoxicating, aphrodisiac effects.
> 
>  **Harmonexian Hum** : A multi-layered drink that's as much about the tall glass as the contents. Using at least three and upwards of a dozen+ liquids, mostly grades and types of energon, a skilled bartender and drinker can make a tune with this. As each level comes in contact with both crystal glass and air it hums a different note based on the liquid. Tradition also has the lightest taste on top and the heaviest on the bottom.
> 
>  **Sapphire Phoenix** : [[100 Sci-Fi Cocktails](https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/266542/100-SciFi-Cocktails)] When it's first mixed, this drink is thick and sludgy. Once it's been set on fire and allowed to burn for a little bit, though, what's left behind is a glass full of top-shelf ambrosia... and a small puddle of particulate matter in the bottom.
> 
> Nanoklik: 1 second;  
> Klik: 62 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> Breem: 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> Groon: 9 breems/1.24 hours;  
> Joor: 6 groons/7.44 hours;  
> Orn: 42 joors/13.02 days;  
> Decaorn: A Cybertonian 'week'. It contains ten orns and lasts 130.2 days/4.34 months  
> Orns of the decaorn: Dillesol, Gerbesol, Davisol, Maleksol, Marxsol, Glutsol, Robbisol, Wolsol, Dixosol, Wisesol


End file.
